His World
by TheAzureFox
Summary: He's bored and he wants some entertainment. An analysis of sorts on Kyoya Gaen


A simple character analysis (sort-of, this is probably more character headcanons than anything, really) of Kyoya Gaen, perhaps one of my favorite antagonists to date. Very rarely do I actually admire the design of villains (as most I see are similar to cardboard cut-outs or are simply used in the humor department) but Kyoya's just fascinates me. His penchant for calling his pawns "friends" is something that I don't see often as well as his innocent-acting nature. FCBF builds him up so well, as someone who we _know_ is psychopathic and who we _know_ is a terrible person and develops him in a way that makes him look charming and reasonable despite his malicious intentions. It's hard to believe the show puts him at fifteen years of age especially since he seems more college-age and not high school age (plus a grown woman swoons over him which, honestly, is just weird for an adult to do towards someone whose probably half her age) but, eh, most characters in this show seem like they need to be aged up anyways (Genma, Jin, etc.)

Regardless, this is a short exploration into Kyoya's (non-canonical) personality and how he views the world. It was actually pretty fun (and quick) to write so I hope it's just as entertaining for you!

He's bored.

It's a simple truth, one that makes itself evident in the form of the broken toys sprawled across his room. Each toy is nothing but a memento of frustration – the amusement Kyoya gains from them amounts to little, especially when their usage lasts but for a moment. The trails of stuffing and the mounds of body parts attest to his brief flashes of entertainment but they are just as quickly forgotten about as the potted plant that wilts on his window frame. But, beyond that plant, beyond that window frame and the pane of glass that sits beside it, outside of his lush home, he finds a world kept from sinking under his thumb. There are people outside, people who are different from his mother and father, people who won't just bend to his wishes if he pretends to act like a proper little boy. There are people who will defy him, who will sneer upon him and kick him into the dust. There are also people who will serve him, licking his shoes like lost puppies until he satisfies them with gifts of power and riches. _Trash,_ he thinks. _All of them._

Yet, there's an allure that keeps Kyoya looking outside his window. He's grown tired of being cooped up, of being the precious little child, heir to the throne, which must be pampered and coddled as long as he plays the tune of the good little boy. He's tired of the endless piles of toys and presents that form a giant mound inside his room; he's tired of breaking them into little pieces when he's done with them and scattering the bits like pollen in the wind. His amusement towards such things ends so quickly, much like a cat who is presented with a new toy, and he finds that he needs more to satisfy his cravings. It's a simple truth he's come to acknowledge – he's simply not like other kids his age. He cares little for the toys or presents he is gifted and he cares little for the false adoration that his caretakers provide him with. He's seen the way his servants look at him – he's seen the way they lust for his attention, for his money and for his power. And he's fed them, playing favorites with some and whispering juicy promises to others. They were just tools, really, and he saw little point in their existence. They all were substitutes for the toys left mutilated in his room and they served just about as much entertainment.

However, even servants had their uses and Kyoya soon found himself disgusted by their eagerness to please. Their blind love for his power, their greedy gazes and their honeycombed words made him realize a simple fact; they were predictable. All they ever wanted was money – there was no other alternative. Money, money, it was always money that was wanted from him, never friendship or respect. Even when his parents were killed, even when the king and queen of the Gaen Financial Corporation perished in the great Disaster, the talk of money would not be dissuaded by the death of two great rulers. Many of his relatives, his servants and his parent's so-called trusted business partners vied for the wealth his family possessed and thus turned to him to pick them as the next head-of-household.

And, oh, did he dangle that string. He'd talked about his intent on choosing a rightful inheritor to the Gaen Corporation. He'd played the cute, innocent little sweetheart who doted on every cash-hungry adult in sight. He'd set up false hope, encouraging every potential inheritor of the chance they were presented and the way to settle the score. He'd set up fights, he'd potentially given people the reason to murder one another. He'd whispered temptations of power, of wealth and fortune, and how fun was it to see their faces in the end! When he announced that _he_ would became the head of the Gaen Financial Corporation (and what a shock and outrage that was. A ten-year old as the head of a massive, influential group – the horror!) he had laughed in their faces! He had enjoyed the life that had drained out of the greedy faces of the many he had seduced and he had chuckled at the utter despair they had been given. All those empty words, all those glimpses of hope and dreams and of futures polished by green paper bills, all vanquished with one simple declaration of inheritance. He had enjoyed it, really, he had. But the outrage had barely served to fulfill his appetite. Instead, it had enlarged it.

And, he supposes, his craving for more – for the delight of another's tragedy, for the horror that only he can grant upon another – is what leads Azi Dahaka to appear before him in the first place.

The dragon he calls his Buddy first manifests itself not as a dragon, but as three draconic heads that hover over him inside his room. A red aura overtakes the black-scaled skin of the beast but what fascinates Kyoya the most is how disembodied the creature is. There is no body to accompany the heads, only a void in which Kyoya can move his hands through freely.

"Child," the three heads speak in unison, watching him with careful scrutiny. "Are you not afraid of me?"

Kyoya looks up, fascinated. He approaches the heads with a light smile as he places his hand on the middle dragon's snout. Three pairs of eyes watch him calmly, almost as interested in him as Kyoya is in it. "Are you a Dragon World monster?" he asks.

"Dragon World?" the heads speak monotonously. "No, I am not from that putrid world. Rather, I am the king of another, more greater world. I am Azi Dahaka and I hail from Darkness Dragon World."

"Mm? Is that so?" Kyoya wanders around the heads in a lazy circle, looping around them twice. "That World actually exists?"

"It does."

"Then why is a scary monster like you talking to a pathetic human like me?" he inquires, his voice decorated in amusement. "Shouldn't dragons like you be trying to gobble me up?"

"We should," the three heads tilt ever so slightly to the left, as if it doesn't appreciate the words Kyoya is speaking. "But we don't. Regardless, I am not here to feast. Instead I want to ask, why?"

"Why what?" he gazes up blankly.

"Why are you bored so? I have seen you manipulate people in this world like they are little more than marionettes. I have seen you done many things unlike others your age. Yet, you do not seem satisfied. Why?"

"So, you've been watching me?" Kyoya chuckles, arms held slightly out to his sides. "Interesting, I didn't think your World's monsters had the capability to do so," he spins in a circle, arms swinging. "Well, if you must ask, I'm bored because this world bores me. There's no toy in this world that can keep me entertained. There's no person who isn't more predictable than anyone I've ever met. Everything I can do I've already done before. It's useless for me to try and amuse myself on my own, I've already reset this game enough times as it is."

There's a long pause. "So, then, what do you want to do?"

"First, why are you so interested?" Kyoya holds up a finger. "I can't begin to fathom how a creature like you can care about someone like me."

"You, human child, interest me. I cannot explain why. Maybe it is the bloodlust in your eyes or the string you dangle above your older brethren but you are a peculiarity I cannot ignore."

"Does that mean you want to be my Buddy?" Kyoya picks up a dismembered doll from his floor, one of a ninja whose legs have been cast away, and tosses it away with disinterest. "I don't mind, actually. Having a monster become my friend is something that can prove useful to me. However, you want to be my Buddy because I'm interesting? Is that why monsters from the other Worlds appear before us, right? To chase after something they cannot comprehend on their own?"

The dragon does not respond to his condescending tone. Instead, it appears behind him. "If that is what you wish," the dragon speaks slowly before teleporting back in front of him. "Then I can agree to a Buddy contract. But, first, I must ask. What do you want to do?"

"Hmm?"

"Do not play innocent. I see it in your eyes. You have a plan. You crave for something. I want to know what that is."

The idea that Kyoya has something that a monster wants is so ludicrous that he nearly splutters into laughter. Here before him is a great beast, one whose appearance should send careless shudders down his spine, and it can do nothing but ask curiously of his intentions. Some twisted fairy tale he's in!

He faces the dragonic heads with a smile, gazing up at the devil with the face of an angel. "I want world domination," he says, his hand placed in front of him. He grabs at an invisible object and crushes it beneath his fingers. "I want to destroy the world until only children are left. I want to watch them cry in despair as their parents are lost, I want them to see their brothers and sisters murdered in a war that they cannot fight. I want the world to crumble to pieces until nothing is left but sorrow. I want to cause the apocalypse, if only to watch everyone burn until they are all ashes settled beneath my feet."

Kyoya places his hand on the glass window that marks the boundary between his room and the outside world. "I want to create an army," he says before looking at the beast before him with a laugh that cackles of near insanity, "and I want to be its leader."

Azi Dahaka, if such a thing is possible for a demonic demise dragon, smiles back at the boy. "I think can help you with that."

Here he stands. He is on top of a throne of cards, looking down upon the pawns that play his game. They are players in a scheme far greater than they can believe and he's ready to march them into their final act.

Blue is against red, red is against blue. Two individuals of clashing conflicts, of darkness and tainted light, fight underneath him. One dons armor. The other, a gauntlet that glints with the light of the stadium set overhead. The crowd goes wild and Kyoya watches as his puzzle pieces fit into place. Red beats blue and the outcome is exactly as Kyoya has foretold.

He stands up and waves to his adoring audience (trash, all of them), and enters the silence with a flourish of sweet words. It won't be long before he's mesmerized them all and it won't be long before they crumble to his feet, pleading like dogs. His red champion looks up to him and, already, Kyoya can see the strings that dangle around his soon-to-be puppet.

He's looking forward to the moment he can break that puppet. And, he's looking forward to his final act.

He spreads out his arms.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the finale of the night is just about to start."

He's bored, but this game is only getting better by the second.


End file.
